Your Guardian Angel
by xoThanksForTheMemoriesxo
Summary: "I remember being a sister. I remember having a mother. I remember my innocence and my ability to think about hope. I remember when the Hunger Games was my biggest concern." Katniss was a survivor before she entered the arena and became the Mockingjay. She had to be, she was a mother. Warning: this is a very disturbing story.
1. Chapter 1

_**PLEASE READ!** Hello. Thank you checking out my first HG fic! I want to start off by saying that this is going to be a very long story and updates are going to be slow because I am a perfectionist as well as a behavioral science (criminology) major and hotel housekeeper. I go 7 days a week and rarely get any rest. HOWEVER, I am an extremely passionate writer. _

**Point blank: this story is probably going to make you feel uncomfortable at times. I basically put Katniss through hell :\ if you have a weak stomach or are sensitive to topics such as rape, murder, suicide, and/or lost children then you might find this difficult to read. By the way, FULL DISCLAIMER: I have nothing to do with the creation of the Hunger Games universe, I own nothing, I'm a fangirl. That is all. Back to the story, the first chapter starts out with a graphic scene. If you can't handle blood, pain, and basically torture, you should stop reading and find a happier fic right now. If you do enjoy angst, torment, and a little love story to go with it, then maybe you could add this to your list of follows. I will say this: I love Katniss, I would never give her more than she could handle. And I'm a strong believer in happy endings. I started writing this years ago, I wanted to wait for Part 2 to come out before I posted the first chapter. Okay, I've talked too much. Go read now my little rebels. XO THANK YOU XO**

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 _A slow parade of wind_

 _That blows through threes_

 _That wilted with the season's children_

 _Are we saved by the words of bastard saints?_

 _Do we live in fear or faith?_

 _Tell me now who's behind the rain_

 _-Skid Row_

My eyelids squeeze shut, tear trails follow on each side.

My mother strokes my cheek in gentle efforts to calm me but it's no use, I have absolutely no strength to care anymore. I twist and turn violently in my bed, my violent screams echo so loudly the whole District must think I'm being brutally murdered. God, I might as well be.

My long hair is a tangled mess around my shoulders; curly strands of my bangs plaster to my forehead.

The sheets of the bed are flooded with the sweat that erupts from my skin. The night gown I wear is completely soaked through and through. It is early in the morning.

I rest for a grateful bit. The moments in between these contractions are so short, they seem to not ever stop now. It started two days ago; at this point I am exhausted and hopeless. We've tried everything to progress this horrible delivery. I've walked around, got on my hands and knees, squatted, tried every possible position but this child won't come.

Now I've been on my back pushing for several hours and my mother claims that she can finally begin to see the head. It's hard for me to believe her, however. I'm going to die, I just know it. This is going to kill me and then there will be no one left to protect Prim. At this I sob a little harder, a little louder.

"It's almost over," she says soothingly. But that's what she said yesterday. And the hell that's blazing in between my legs doesn't convince me just yet. When I can look down and see it coming out for myself, then maybe I'll entertain the idea.

I've begged for her to cut it out a hundred times already, but there's no way that either of us would survive, she insists. We would need a hospital, and lots of doctors around. At this point I'm willing to take the risk. I just want the pain to end.

My body isn't ready for this, I'm too small, the child's too big. I can't imagine anything more painful. I can't imagine any woman doing this willingly.

She leans forward and brushes my hair back in strokes while I sob and gasp for air.

I look into her tired blue eyes with almost nothing left in me, "Kill me, kill me right now!" I plead. But she just takes the damp cloth and wipes more sweat from my face.

I throw my arm behind me to grip the railings of the thin metal bedpost. My fingers wrap around the bars tightly, the coolness of the frame distracts me for a split second.

Even though it scares me to death I push when the urge comes, I can't help it. And though the pressure shifts when I do so, it doesn't stop the fire from burning my insides right up. I can feel the shape of the baby's head, and my body is not going to let the head slide back in.

My mother rubs my legs and tells me to push. "I've been pushing," I want to say, but I can't manage to release anything other than a long, beast-like groan.

"Breathe, Katniss," she says softly. I gasp and stare at the wall, I've never felt this alone before. I am so nervous as I try to prepare for the next contraction to rip me even wider and get the head completely out. Nothing could prepare me for the next contraction however, it is unlike any pain I've ever felt and just when I think I can't scream any louder, I do.

"Push hard! Now!" she yells at me and I push as hard as I can. My scream suddenly stops the second I feel an immediate relief.

"Breathe Katniss, the head's out," she informs me. There's a burning heaviness pulling me down. I think she's holding the head in her own hands. I try to catch my breath in sobs and I stare at the wall again. Then I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them I can see Prim hiding behind the door.

I try to smile at her, but it turns into more of a grimace and she quickly disappears. Then it starts up again, the tumultuous waves that pull my cervix wider and wider apart. I lean up as much as I can, I can't take the fire anymore.

"Get it out!" I scream at her. Her hands are wrapped around the neck and I feel her tugging.

The contraction suddenly explodes and I throw my head back as it tears out of me. I scream at the top of my lungs, as I can feel my mother pulling it as hard as she can. I look down quick enough to watch it come ripping out. Blood and fluids of all colors come with it.

My body collapses back to the bed as I gasp for air, words cannot describe the amount of relief I feel.

Then I look down and I see the bloody, gooey body.

It starts crying.

It's squirming in her arms. She wipes the blood from its face and I catch a glimpse of it.

As daunting as it is, I feel a warmth in the air. The whimpering of a baby soothes the room. No more screaming, no more pain. I take several breaths to calm myself down. The little child. What I've been so afraid of this whole time, its cries are music to my ears. I'm thankful that it's okay. I'm thankful that we both made it.

Because for a while there I honestly didn't know if we would.

My sobs continue as I watch her retrieve a string and scissors from the table of supplies. She ties it around the cord and cuts it carefully. She looks up at me and smiles before placing it in my arms. I hold it and am mesmerized by this puffy, pink face. Angelic.

"A girl," she whispers as we both sit there and cry. I can barely breathe. It's all over and she is beautiful. Radiant. It's hard to believe that this baby was inside of me just minutes ago. And now she's here, in my arms. This is a moment that I will never forget, not for one second.

We've only just met, and yet I can't begin to fathom how much I love her. She has dark hair like me. I kiss her. All I can think about is how happy I am in this moment. For the first time in years I can feel something. Something real and pure. I feel as if everything that has happened until now doesn't matter. I don't care who her father is; she is mine. I will protect her.

My life is going to change with her in it now. I'm going to take her hunting, that's for sure. And she's going to sleep on my chest every night. My strong girl, she'll be fearless.

Pieces of the future flash like photographs through my mind.

She will be smart. She'll know how to read before any other kid in her class when she starts school because I'm going to teach her. She won't struggle with numbers like everyone else will. She'll be a leader. She'll stand up for what is right. I just want her to feel my love. She is my baby.

And I will do the best that I can. I am young, and I don't know everything, but I will do my very best to be a good mother. I will protect her. I will do anything to protect her. I will give my life in a heartbeat to protect her. And I can't wait until we are alone together, and I can promise her this when my mother's not around.

It now occurs to me that what I've been telling myself this whole time is true. It was all worth it. All of the pain and hurting that I went through was worth it. She is worth everything. And I would spend another thousand hours in labor again.

But my thoughts are interrupted when the door flies open. The loud shock makes me jump and she stirs around. I look up from her beautiful eyes to see my stepfather, very sternly, walking towards us from the door way. He's holding out his arms.

"It's time to say good-bye," he says.

His words don't register. I blink.

Good-bye? To who?

I look toward my mom for an answer; she now looks at me strange. Like she knows something that I do not. The look on her face makes my stomach turn.

She turns to my stepfather, "She's been through hell, surely five more minutes won't hurt?"

"Now," he says without hesitation and continues to reach out for what I now understand, my baby.

His hands, they remind me of a beast, because that's what he is. An animal, with razor sharp claws ready to harm my newborn daughter. I will die before I let him touch her. And so I pull her into my chest.

"What?" I ask both of them loudly, my voice breaking.

"Don't make it any more difficult than it needs to be, Katniss," he tells me.

I begin to tremble and I choke, "Mom? What are you talking about?" She pathetically nods with a tear sliding down her cheek. Surely this isn't what I think it is. Surely they're not actually going to try to take her away from me.

My mother sighs, "Katniss it's going to be okay, just give it to Huck."

"Her name is Meadow. I'm not giving her to anyone."

I hold my daughter tight and shake my head. Out of instinct I try to get up and get away from them, but I can't. My body has been literally torn apart. Pieces of flesh are hanging from in between my legs and I can't fight them both as they rip her from me.

"You can't have her! No! No!" I try to slap them away, and I scream for them to stop and let go of her, but it's no use. My own mother holds me down, and I can only hear my baby crying as Huck runs out of the room with her.

"Please! Please, Huck! I'm begging you! Meadow!" I shout from my bed. My eyes squeeze tight, I can't breathe, I can't breathe.

"I'm begging you! Meadow! Meadow!" I shout with everything I have in me left.

My desperate eyes flash open; I know they are bloodshot as I look into the sorry face of the woman who's betrayed me over and over again.

I don't understand, I scream into her face, "How can you do this to me?!"

She shakes her head slowly and tries to hug me but I push her away. With the little muscle I have left.

I break down into sobs again as I hear the door slam. I don't know where he's taking my baby.

"How can you do this to me?!" I wail again, I grip the sheets of the bed and toss around fiercely.

"You're too young to be a mother, Katniss," she tries to explain but I shake my head in wrath.

"You have no right to take her, she's mine!" I protest. But it's no use. She's gone. The little girl I got to hold for a second. My daughter.

"She was crying…babies cry when they're hungry. I have to go get her…she needs my milk…" My words are so masked with tears it's hard to understand.

"Katniss, don't think about it. It's just going to make it harder for yourself." She doesn't get it. How can she not get it? She's had two babies. Two girls. How can she not get it?

Meadow is gone. The light, it has been put out, but then I realize I was never out of the darkness.

My daughter. I give up fighting. I give up trying to object. I give up trying to make any sense of this, any reason at all. I have nothing left. I am nothing right now.

My mother says a few more words to me but I can't hear her. I can't process anything, it's all the same. It's all fuzzy. I notice her hand stroking my cheek but I feel nothing. I stare past her, looking at the wall. The pain has returned and this emotional pain is even worse than childbirth itself. My mouth hangs open and my eyes squint. I am dead.

They killed me.

I'm nothing but a piece of flesh. My organs function but my soul is gone.

"Prim," I barely hear her say as she stands up.

My mother leaves the room and soon enough Prim appears beside me. But I can't do it. I can't be strong for her this time. Her frightened face; she takes my hand. She rubs my arm and gets my mother when it's time to deliver the afterbirth.

Prim stays by my side and my mother tells me to push one more time. I am not sure if it hurts worse because of the physical pain, or because my baby's been stolen right out of my own arms. Actually, the pain is all the same. I can't tell what is what.

And I can't even scream again, I have no voice left, no energy. I just lay there, holding Prim's hand as the placenta comes out. My mother gets rid of it and comes back with a needle and string.

"I didn't realize how badly you tore…you're going to need stitches. Many."

I don't look at her. The blank expression on my face doesn't change. I don't care what she does. What does she want? My permission? I've been violated a million times. What's one more?

"Prim…" our mother says grimly with her hands between my legs, ready to pierce my skin. It is a warning.

She shakes her head strongly, "I'm not leaving Katniss."

I slowly turn towards her; she is too young to take care of me. She looks at me, and though I can't speak she knows that I will be okay. But she shakes her head again.

"I'm not leaving you."

I squeeze her hand and close my eyes, waiting for the first stick.

"Take a deep breath," she says and I lie still. The needle penetrates me but I don't feel it. I am trying to piece together what has happened. In quick flashes I relive it. Pain.

Hours of agony.

Suicide. I wanted to die. I wanted to cut my own throat.

Baby.

She came out. Bloody and screaming but perfect.

She was perfect.

Meadow.

Gone.

They held me down. Huck ripped her from me.

They held me down. They stole my baby.

I screamed for her. I screamed her name.

She helped him. I will kill her.

My baby is gone.

Meadow.

Meadow.

My baby is gone.

My daughter is gone.

Where is a knife so I can cut my throat?

Meadow.

Let me die.

I open my eyes and see Prim still next to me. My sweet girl.

"I love you," she quietly tells me.

I blink.

Then I look down at my mother. She is still working but looks up and stops. She knows that I will never forgive her. Then she goes back to suturing my raw flesh.

I begin to feel the needle sticking but it is over a minute later.

My mother stands up and I don't fight her when she lays a thick cloth under me.

"You're going to bleed a lot, it's normal but don't get out of bed. If you need to go to the bathroom, I'll help you."

"Don't touch me," I say. She stares at me for a moment and then disappears.

Once she's gone Prim brings me some water but I turn away. She stands there quiet for a moment.

"What was it?" she asks innocently. I don't answer her. I roll over to face the window. I'm sorry, Prim. Then I feel her get into bed with me. There's not much room and the sheets are still soaked with my bodily fluids but I guess she doesn't mind. I'm thankful that I'm not alone.

"Little duck," my raspy voice croaks, "love you."

She rubs my back with one hand. And then I start to cry again.

Then she sings to me and I fall asleep. I haven't slept in days.

I am fifteen years old. My mother's husband rapes me. He has for almost a year. And I just had a baby. Had. She's gone.

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 **Sorry, sad beginning. It gets better, but not for a while...but I swear it does get better. Hopefully I haven't scared all of you away. If I get enough reviews I'll post the next chapter sooner rather than later. THANK YOU XO**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Thanks for the follows and favs and DamphiricAngel2014 for reviewing. I'm hoping for more feedback this time around! I hope you all enjoy it, thanks for continuing.**

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 _There was no pain_

 _No fear, no doubt_

 _'Till they pulled me out_

 _Of Heaven_

 _So that's my refrain_

 _I live in Hell_

 _'Cause I've been expelled_

 _From Heaven_

 _I think I was_

 _In Heaven_

 _-Once More, With Feeling_

I feel nothing but pain. She is one week old today. Somewhere out there she's opening her eyes, looking around. Is she as lost as I am? Is she wondering where am I? I understand she doesn't have the slightest idea of what is going on. Maybe she doesn't know that she is lost, but I do. And I sit on a chair in our living room, staring at nothing when my mother appears in the room.

"Katniss?" she calls my name. My eyes don't move. If I look at her I will kill her.

"You have to eat something today."

Lies. I'm already dead. What good is food?

"Can you come lie down on the bed for me?"

Once again, I don't move, I don't speak at all.

"I just want to check you."

She starts to come towards me,

"Don't touch me!" I snap.

Startled, she stops and holds her hands out,

"I must take a look at you, it's not an option."

Rather than have her grab me I slowly stand up. I wince and groan slightly as the stitches pull and immediately she rushes to my side.

"Don't touch me I said!" And she backs away.

I slowly walk to my bedroom and lie down on top of the covers. I pull my gown up as my mother gets in front of me. The horrible memories make my eyes fly shut as she pries my legs open.

I feel Huck's fingers inside instead of hers.

Like a gashing sensation against my pink skin.

I flash to the first night he pushed it in. Like a shot. Spewing himself inside of me. He was gentle at first. Almost like he really didn't want to hurt me. But that was only at first.

I whimper at the memory of that first night. My mother rubs my legs and brings me back to this moment.

"Relax, Katniss," she soothes me and I want to cry again. But I don't, I just keep my eyes closed and breathe.

I feel her hands down there and I squeal. I think about the baby, wherever she is. I hold onto the hope that she is okay. The situation is just too fresh. She hushes me gently,

"Just relax…"

It feels like an awful eternity. I grow very angry and start to breathe heavily. I open my eyes to see her hands between my legs. Cleaning me with a towel that has my blood all over it.

"I can do that myself!" I growl slapping her hands away. She has no reaction, she just finishes up quickly.

"I trusted you to clean yourself every day, it doesn't look like you have. You're vulnerable to infection."

"What does it matter? What do you care?"

"I do care," she says.

Ha. This is not funny, but underneath my grimace and misery I almost laugh. If there is anything that I can understand about my mother, it is that she does not love me. She killed me.

"I wish you died instead," I say. My father, she can't talk about him.

"He would roll over in his grave right now," I go on.

Her face longs. She looks hurt by my coldness. What? Did she think this was going to be easy? Did she think I was going to let her get away with this?

She starts to say something but I interrupt her.

My voice breaks, "She was going to save me. She was going to make everything worth it. How could you do that to me? After everything?

She looks down to remove her gloves and pulls my dress back down over my knees.

"Answer me!" I shout.

Again, hurt.

"You let that monster rape me. Over and over!" I scream. She shakes her head.

"And then the two of you rip my baby out of my arms, seconds after she's born? Letting me hold her for a single second? She's the only thing good that could've come out of this pathetic excuse for a life. Tell me, I have to know, why?"

"You wouldn't have been able to do it, Katniss," she tells me.

"I am her mother!" I shout through tears, "she needs me!" She stands up from the bed and I throw my legs carelessly over to get up.

"Sometimes I remember what it was like before my dad died. I remember feeling safe. And loved. I remember what it felt like to be a child."

My voice softens.

"Do you remember that?"

She remains silent, she goes numb when he is mentioned.

"I remember being a sister. I remember having a mother. I remember my innocence and my ability to think about hope. I remember when the Hunger Games was my biggest concern. And now, that my child is gone and my mom is gone and I'm stuck here with two monsters and a sister that depends on me for everything…I'm fifteen. So, no. Do not ever tell me that you care."

I hate her. I hate her more than Huck.

"I'm her mother, and I'm going to find her," I say before she has the chance to walk away. She looks deep into my eyes and knows that I am telling the truth.

"And I'm going to take her, and Prim, and we're getting the hell away from here. Away from you and this hell."

She has no excuse. She is done. And I am done with her.

"She was mine," I say as she walks away. And I rise up from the bed and look out the window. The view looks the same as it always has, but it isn't. She's out there. Somewhere. And she should be here with me. If it weren't for them she would be. I will find her and I won't give up until I find her. I don't care how long it takes or what I have to do. What I have to give or anything. She is my baby. And I'm getting her back.

…

It has been another two days and though I am in no condition, I am going to look for her. I will walk through every part of District 12. I will walk through every part of every district if I have to, but I am going to find her.

I braid my hair to the side. Then I put on a pair of old pants that I used to hunt in. I have lost so much weight this week, my body's almost to where it was before I got pregnant. I've barely ate and my hormones are continuing to burn thousands of calories a day.

My breasts are so sore, she needs my milk. My mother tells me that they will eventually stop hurting, I just have to wait it out. But I want them to still be full for when my baby comes home. She is going to come home, soon too.

The bleeding is horrible. She warned me about this but I never would've imagined how much blood there would be. I won't mind when this goes away at all.

There is no food in the house, Huck finished it. I have no appetite, but Prim, she can't handle the bellyaches, and she looks almost as bad as I do.

I found some change in Huck's pants. My plan for today is to find my child and bring home some bread.

I walk around my room in ease, my pants on, my jacket on. My pain is minimal right now aside from my breasts. I know that as long as I walk slow, I'll be okay.

I slip out of my house quietly; my mother would pitch a fit if she knew what I was doing.

It's nice to be outside again. Now that I think about it, I hardly left the bed during the last month. It's been that long since I've felt the sun. My boots hit the ground, and when I face the outside of the district I think I can hear them singing from a long ways away. The mockingjays. And as silly as it sounds, I wish they could only tell me where my daughter is. Surely somebody can help me. Somebody has to know something.

I know she isn't in the Seam. I can feel it, because I feel so empty as I walk through the streets. I go to the other side. Walking door to door, asking every single person that answers if my daughter is there. What else can I say?

They all give strange stares; they look at me like I'm crazy and say no. No she isn't. And then they close the door. I go to so many houses I lose count, and with every footstep I grow weaker and weaker. I realize that I have underestimated my weak body. I'm not as strong as I thought; I can barely make it down the street. And every single door that closes in my face is like a stab to my heart. It reminds me again that nothing is in my favor.

Though I haven't found her yet, I know I won't be able to keep walking much longer. But I'm not giving up. I'll just look again tomorrow.

I find myself in muddy alley, and stop for a moment, leaning against the wall of a brick building to rest. Only for a second, but it starts raining, coincidentally. The droplets immediately chill me. I feel sick. But I will come home with bread, I promised Prim. There's a fogginess, darkness...my muscles are aching more than ever. I need to sit down. I need to go home but I can't. I just need to sit down for a minute…

My hand pushes off the brick and I force my legs to walk around the side, it is the bakery. I forgot it was even here, my eyes flutter as I concentrate to keep them open. My body reminds me that it's shutting down. Without missing a beat, I fall.

I wince sharply. My stitches are not out yet. I crawl on the ground up against a near tree. I just need to rest for a second.

...

My head leans up from my chest. My vision is murky for a moment, I was out. I must have been out for awhile because there are mud puddles around my legs on the ground.

I look up and find myself being watched. There's a boy staring at me. From the porch of the bakery. How long he's been standing there is a mystery. Blonde hair, worn expression. He tosses a piece of bread toward me, it's burnt.

My head hangs down against my chest again but I try to keep my eyes open. It is just so hard...I'm so tired. I can't think. How am I going to get home? I don't think I can stand back up…

…

"Katniss," I hear my mother gasp. My eyes are closed. I open them to reveal the two of them standing over me.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Huck asks. My body's soaking wet. I look around and I'm back at home again, on the floor in the doorway.

How did I get here? A minute ago I was just outside of the bakery. I don't know. I don't know what happened.

I start to lean up and my mother bends down to help me. This time I let her because I have no choice.

As soon as I am on my feet I start heading towards my room, my mother holding me up. Prim's in there. I don't have the heart to tell her about the bread.

"The bread?" she asks immediately. She doesn't make this easy.

"I'm so sorry, little duck. I'm so sorry."

I start to take off my soaking coat after many painful silences. The burnt loaf falls out onto the floor.

"Katniss!" Prim exclaims.

Bread? How did that get here? Was it the boy? The boy from the porch. He must've put it in here. He must've…brought me home. The boy with the bread.

…


	3. Chapter 3

**Let me just start off by saying thank you for continuing to read my story, and thank you for the follows, favs, and reviews. I especially appreciate the reviews! Also, trigger warnings: there a rape scenes in this chapter. This chapter is also written in past tense unlike the rest of the story is and will be. I did that on purpose. Thank you!**

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 _When it feels like all is lost and there's no guide that's left to prove it_

 _Take a look inside, cherish your life_

 _And live before you lose it_

 _You're all waiting for the answer_

 _Keep on searching, strength in numbers_

 _-Of Mice & Men_

My father was killed in a mine explosion.

It felt like the whole world stopped existing, he was our rock. He was a protector, and provider. My mother went right along with him, emotionally, mentally…she was gone. Not as an absence of body but absence of mind and soul. When he died he took every piece of her humanity with him. She stopped talking, stopped responding to us. It was as if she just died too. That's how Prim became mine.

There was never a moment when I decided to take control and accept responsibility for my family, it just sort of happened naturally. I don't think I even realized it myself.

Gale is the only one I had.

Nothing has ever been in my favor.

Prim is mine.

We look nothing alike, her beauty is captivating. Her face is soft and she has pretty blonde locks; she has gentle features. There is nothing 'soft' about my face.

We have a stepfather. He is a coal miner also…a charming man, seductive. Devious is perhaps, a more appropriate word. My mother fell into his trap the way I didn't. I could tell, from the moment I met him I could tell.

I'm not sure where they met, but he started hanging around the house one summer and introduced himself. He told my mother she had beautiful girls. She smiled.

He did something to her. He put a spell on her. He lit up the light in her eyes, the light that was buried away for so long. She started talking again.

There wasn't a wedding. No ceremony. The night they got married, quietly, they came home and he asked if he could have a word alone with us, Prim and I. My mother left the room to get ready for their evening and he sat us down on the couch. He sat Prim on his lap and touched my cheek.

"You don't have to worry about another thing as long as you live," he told us. He looked right into my eyes. A sincere statement, but I saw past it. I could tell he was a snake. My mother couldn't see it but I could. I'm not gullible, I'm not an idiot; I know when I'm being lied to.

That same night when we were in our bed, he came into our room and walked to my side. He kissed me on my cheek. "Good night, Katniss," he whispered, something nasty in his breath. I laid still.

Then he leaned over me, his chest in my face, to kiss Prim too, "Good night, Prim."

When he rose up he looked down at me, "I love you. Both of you."

He did this every night for a week, but I didn't feel as if I was in danger until the night he kissed me on my lips and stuck his tongue down my throat. My reflexes snapped and I pulled away from him, he rose up and looked down at me like nothing happened.

"Good night," he said sweetly. I laid there, in shock at first. Then I became afraid. He walked away rather slowly, multiply the fear instilled. That kept me awake for many hours, I looked over at Prim. Was she in danger? This was only the beginning. I noticed he treated me differently than her. I think he saw me as more of a woman, though I was a kid, and that put my mind at ease for a moment at least.

The next day he approached me as I was about to go hunting. I had gotten up before everyone, I was getting ready to leave and he appeared out of nowhere before me.

"Katniss? Where are you going?"

I looked at him strangely, "hunting," I answered.

"Oh yeah, you're mother said you go with this boy. Gale, is it?"

"He's my friend, and yes, we hunt together."

"No," he said shaking his head and taking a step towards me. He pointed to my bedroom.

"I provide for this family now. I don't want you going into the woods anymore. Little girls don't belong in the woods. Especially with boys." I looked at him even more strangely.

"I said I was going hunting," my words were spaced out slowly for emphasis, then I tried to step past him but he blocked me and pushed me. My legs weren't prepared to sustain the force of his brawny arms. I fell down with a small thud, it didn't really hurt.

"Katniss, now I don't want to have problems with you. I like you."

Our eyes never left each other as I stood up slowly. I knew he was trying to manipulate me. I knew exactly what he wanted: control. Control over our family which meant control over me. The problem was that I didn't know what he was capable of. And I knew how to fight back. Or so I believed.

"I went yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. You didn't say anything then. I hunt every morning, it's what I do," I tried explained to him but he ignored me. He looked past me, at the wall.

Huck's hands crossed and he rubbed circles on his palms.

"Katniss, I can tell that you're a very smart girl. You've been through a lot, you've practically raised Prim. I see the way she is towards you, you're basically her mom."

I focused my eyes elsewhere. He stepped closer and started massaging my shoulders; his chest appeared more immense than before, towering over me.

"I know that you'd do anything to protect her too, yeah?" he said in a friendly whisper. "So, we got to find a way to get along here now don't we?"

I dithered; looking up at him I remained silent.

"Now I said that I don't want you in the woods anymore, we understand?"

The hell I did. I didn't falter, "I hunt."

And then his burly hands took hold of me, which I wasn't expecting. He thrusted his hand in between my legs and drew me against his chest. My feet were barely touching the ground as he growled in my ear.

"Don't you dare make a sound," Huck snarled. "You've got a little sister that needs you. You don't want anything bad to happen to her, do you?"

Everything was a question with him. Like he was giving me a choice, like it was my decision.

"You stay away from her," I tried to break away, quietly.

"You stay out of my way, this is my family now. We're family so get used to it. And you are not to see that Gale anymore. Two teenagers have no business being alone together in the woods. You don't have anything to do with him, do we understand each other?"

I reasoned in my mind when he started to let me go. Of course I would do anything to protect Prim.

"You keep your hands off of her," I said.

He held his grip, and didn't reply.

"Fine," I replied and I moved away from him quickly.

"There we go, now why don't you go back to bed? I've got plans for this family today."

As I made my way back to the bedroom, I rubbed my chest and shoulders. I could still feel his hands squeezing me against his hard body. Could I tell my mother that I was afraid for my life and Prim's? Yes. Should I tell her? Yes. Was I going to? No. Because as long as I wasn't afraid of him and didn't let him scare me, then he couldn't hurt me. At fourteen that was what I tried to force myself to believe.

…

Gale was my best friend. We grew up together. He loved me, I loved him. He's always been there. After my father died I fell into his arms and he stayed by my side.

I didn't go into the woods anymore but of course I continued to see Gale at school, there was nothing I could do about that. I talked to him as if nothing had changed, obviously it did. We both felt the distance. But Huck couldn't control me at school too. I could talk to whomever I wanted; it was none of his business.

I thought that maybe we could still be friends, until the day he showed up at my house. I was sitting outside with Prim when he walked into the yard.

"Gale!" she said running to him. They both laughed loudly as he picked her up and spun her around. Huck had just got home from the mines and was asleep on the couch inside. I knew that it wouldn't end well if he woke up and saw him in our yard.

"Prim, go inside quietly and don't wake him up." Her sunshine smile ended and she walked away slowly as Gale's smile also turned into a confused frown.

"What's wrong, Katniss?"

I crossed my arms, "You have to go."

My heart sank when I saw the look on his face.

"What? Why?"

"Gale you can't come here anymore—" and then I was cut off by the sound of the old wooden door creaking behind me. I didn't have to turn around to feel the cold chill of my stepfather standing behind me.

"What do we got going on here?" he asks in a friendly voice.

Gale looked taken aback; he didn't even know that I had a stepfather.

"Nothing," I said, "he was just leaving."

"Young man," Huck said in a tone that I didn't quite understand, "what's your name?"

"Gale," he said with no trouble. He stood up straighter, "What's yours?"

Huck didn't say anything for several moments, but then I heard him laugh,

"Katniss, your mom needs you in the kitchen." God I hated Huck. My mom wasn't even home. I hated him so much. Never in a million years had I ever dreamed that I could harbor so much animosity and distaste for someone as much as I had the Capitol. As soon as he walked inside I didn't hesitate with Gale.

"Don't come around here anymore," I said.

"Who is that?" he said, ignoring me.

"I mean it," I finished. And then I turned my back on him and walked inside the house, where Huck was waiting for me. He spared not a second before grabbing me by the arms.

"I thought I told you to get rid of him."

"Let go of me!" I growled. He only held on tighter, digging his fingernails into my arms. He gave off the foulest odor.

"That boy is trouble, if you can't keep him away then we'll have to figure something else out."

Twisting my way out of his grip somehow, I bolted for the other side of the room.

"I'll get rid of him," I spoke, only allowing him a moment to reply back. When he said nothing, I turned around and slammed the door to my bedroom.

I found Prim sitting on the bed, holding her cat. She looked up at me sadly,

"What happened? Why were you fighting with Daddy?"

I blinked. And then I sighed in confusion. Daddy. She called Huck "Daddy." After everything that was happening, hearing her call him that was the last thing I wanted to hear. I knew that she would never call him that on her own, he must've put her up to it.

"Don't call him that," I said rushing to her side. I took her in my arms as that stupid cat jumped onto the floor.

"Who? Daddy?" she said with her innocence clearly speaking.

"He's not your dad. He's not my dad."

"But he said that he was my daddy now."

And then a different horrid thought came to mind.

"No, you're right Little Duck. You can call him that all you want."

He wanted her to call him that, so she should. Whatever it would take to keep her safe. If that kept her safe, then so be it. Things could be a lot worse.

"Don't worry about…Daddy and me. I shouldn't have even brought it up," I said, though it caused pain.

She grabbed onto me tighter and I stroked her back. She was an innocent. A little girl that didn't ask for any of this. She didn't ask to be born just as I didn't. I am never having kids, as I said to myself repeatedly.

And then I felt her jaw open against my chest and I listened for whatever she was about to say.

"Katniss," her voice quavered, "I'm hungry."

Huck. That son of a bitch who lied to all of us when he said he we wouldn't have to worry about food anymore. We wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. He can't provide for us any more than I can.

I'm going hunting. And I don't give a damn what he says, and if he touches Prim I'll shoot an arrow through his face. And skin him like I do the squirrels and birds.

"I'll be right back," I said to her with a hopeful smile.

I ran out of the house before he had a chance to stop me. I ran fast, deep into the woods only stopping to get my bow from inside the log. The forest looked so much more alive to me than before. I hadn't been there in a while.

Even though I wanted to spend the whole afternoon in the woods, I had to get to the Hob to trade for the food I promised Prim. The bread I got would only be enough to feed us for the next day or two but we would make it last.

I got back to the house as quickly as I could. Mother and Huck were waiting for me.

"Why did you run off like that? We were so worried." Huck said.

I didn't answer. I just stood in front of the door with resentment all over my face.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Out."

My mother stood next to him with a nervous glance.

He breathed so loudly, more for show than anything. I glared at him, if I didn't bring home food then how were we supposed to eat?

"I went hunting," I said bluntly. "I traded the squirrels for this," and then I pulled out the bread I had hidden in my jacket.

His eyes widened as my mother just stood there. He turned to my mother and kissed her, then she turned around and disappeared into their bedroom. They had the strangest relationship I'd ever seen.

As soon as she was out of sight he charged at me and grabbed my shoulders, his hands almost snapping my bones.

"Don't you ever embarrass me like that in front of your mother, you hear?"

I broke away from him with no struggle, "Prim is starving," I said taking off my jacket.

After several silent moments he snickered.

"Smart ass. If you think that you're the provider around here, you're not."

"I'm trying to keep my sister alive, damn it," I said going to my own room. I held up the bread in my hand, "She's starving."

In a flash he appeared behind me, his fingers played with my braid.

"Katniss, why don't you like me?" he asked, almost like a child would. I turned to face him.

"Get away from me."

He started twirling my bangs around his index finger.

"You married my mother. You took over my house. I don't owe you anything."

"Katniss," he shook his head grinning, "you're well past your years."

"I'm fourteen," I tell him.

"Oh Katniss…we both know that your about thirty years older than you look."

"Get away."

He massaged my shoulders and stood closer to me. I could feel his warm, steamy breath on the back of my bare neck.

"Would you do anything to protect Prim?"

"I would die for her."

Then he turned me around and I felt something wet and squishy hit my mouth. It happened so quickly that for a moment I didn't know what was happening. Then I realized that he attacked my face with his tongue.

He licked my face and grabbed my head with both of his hands. He trembled and closed his eyes. I tried to push him off quietly without Prim coming to the door.

"Get off," I hissed but he continued rubbing his whole face all over mine. It was happening so fast I didn't have time to process it. I hit him in the stomach with one fist and he let me go.

He wiped his face and smiled.

"Remember how much you love that girl, now," he said. I didn't hesitate in going inside and closing the door as fast as I could.

…

The first time he raped me was in the middle of the night, just a day after our confrontation. My mother was asleep in their room, Prim in ours, and he came and got me.

He told me he needed to talk to me and he helped me out of the bed. I was groggy. He led me to the kitchen and picked me up, setting me down on the table. My arms rested on his shoulders as my senses awakened. He touched my thighs and grabbed my waist.

"No, no!" I jerked but he told me to be quiet or I would wake up my mother.

He massaged my hips with his warm hands and then kissed me on my lips. I pulled away and he snickered like he loved to do, but pulled me tightly to his chest. He started sucking on my neck. I whimpered and he slapped my face and warned me that I could go back to bed and he could just go get Prim instead.

I didn't mumble another word. He laid me down gently. He pulled down his pants and I slowly opened my legs. He pulled off my underwear and kissed the insides of my legs. Then he stuck his finger inside. He poked it around in there, twirling it in circles and it hit a spot so tenderly. I gasped, goose bumps appearing on my arms and legs. He giggled again.

"Oh, you like that?" he smiled. I turned my head away.

"Feel it?" he said pressing his groin against my own. I felt something stiff protruding.

He took it out, it was big and it didn't look the way I thought it would. He forced my eyes upon it. I closed them. He jerked my head by my hair and told me not to look away.

"Touch it," he said. I poked it and he laughed.

"Not like that," Huck smiled, then he grabbed my fist and wrapped it around the hard formation.

I stared at it and sat up. Then I watched him get closer, he spit into his hand and patted my crotch. Rubbing me with his slimy fingers.

"My turn," he announced.

I braced myself for what I knew was going to be extremely painful. He lined himself up with me and thrust forward, but it didn't go in. I was too small, he was too big. It was shutting him out like a wall.

Huck didn't seem fazed; he just took another few minutes slipping his fingers in and out of me.

"Let's just stretch, shall we?" he said politely. Then he told me to lie down, and I did.

He bent my legs and instructed me to hold them back while he tried a different position. After several tries and many throbbing attempts, it finally went inside.

A gasp escaped from my lips and I felt nauseous as he played with me, my body.

I groaned and clenched my mouth tight. The pain, binding and cramping. He moved it out a little bit and then shoved it roughly into my body. My hands fell to the table, for something to grasp, anything. My legs spread around his waist as I let him pierce me deeper. I was wishing on every last breath that Prim wouldn't wake up and find us. I laid down flat on the kitchen table with my legs wide open, his member, hard as concrete, tearing me apart. I desperately tried not to make a sound but I couldn't help it.

"Oh you like that? You like that?" he huffed. My eyes squeezed tight. I wanted to die right then.

I already knew he was going to hold her over me. I wasn't surprised one bit.

It felt like it was never going to end. The way he panted made me want to vomit. His hair dripped with sweat. Then when he couldn't possibly go a second longer he ripped it out and I let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Clean up," he said, "go back to bed."

I rose up from the table in pain, a little dizzy. I looked down and I was so wet everywhere. I started to shuffle off and he warned me,

"You remember how much Prim means to you, now."

I nodded my head and he helped me to the bathroom. Before I even closed the door, which was a joke in itself, he threw my undergarment at me.

I cleaned the inside of my legs. And my insides. I ached in such a way and I was bleeding. I had never seen one before, a penis. I never even thought of the idea. I stumbled back to bed and looked at Prim who was still sleeping.

As I climbed back in to the warm covers I wasn't sure if what just happened was real. But when it continued to happen every night afterwards, I understood it was. And every night it seemed to last longer and longer. It was my living nightmare.

I began to forget what a peaceful night's rest was. Every night was terrorizing.

I often dozed at school. My teachers lectured me at drifting off in class and they ignored the look of defeat on my face, as did my mother. Gale tried to talk to me but I pushed him away. I shot him down time after time. He tried to help, but the truth was he would only make it worse.

The Capitol didn't scare me now. It was a fight just to live each and every day at home. My safe haven. Or at least once was my safe haven. I just wanted everything to stop. I wanted my home back.

But it didn't matter what I wanted.

I was dying. And nobody could help.

I was late one time. Maybe it was due to the stress. I asked Huck about getting a natural contraceptive from the Hob but he just slapped me. He told me to shut up and get on the table. I wondered why he insisted on doing it out in the open where my mother could walk in. Maybe he liked the thumping of the table legs. Then he turned me around, something we had never done before. He thrust his self into me in a way that he'd never done before, I hated it even more than before. I know my mother had to have heard us because I cried out and gasped as he shook me around. But the whole time I was just hoping that Prim wouldn't wake up.

We did it every night before Huck went to work. I mean every night. He was never too tired. No matter how long or how hard he worked in the mines he was always ready to come get me. Sometimes it would be quick and I could go right back to bed. Other times it would last much longer.

One night it happened. My mother walked in on us and I was so relieved. When she saw me I was on my stomach, my cheek against the table, and his hands on my naked hips. His chest against my bare bottom. He told her to go back to sleep. She asked what was going on. She started to move towards us and he told her to go back to sleep again. We made eye contact, my mouth was hanging open and I was breathing heavily. I was waiting for her. She saw that I was scared, but she did as she was told. She just turned around and walked away. Like she never saw anything. Anything at all.

Those late nights took a toll on my body. I became nauseated, all the time. My energy always gone before the morning was even over. I felt different; it was changing everything about me.

Then I quit having periods completely. I told Huck and he told me to relax.

"Stop trying to be dramatic," he said.

I knew better. Over the months my breasts grew, and I got rounder and fuller even though we were barely eating. It became even more uncomfortable to give my body to Huck. He would grab my breasts and rub them and it hurt because they were so tender.

Then early one morning my mother came into my room while I was sleeping. I woke up with her sitting on the bed, my covers pulled back and my nightgown raised. She didn't make a sound, Prim was still asleep next to me.

She put a hand on my stomach and looked at me as soon as I looked at her.

"Oh no…" she whispered.

I was awake immediately and I pulled my gown back down, I jerked away and rolled over to where she couldn't see me. I snuggled close to Prim. It was happening, she could see it now too. It wasn't in my head, I wasn't being dramatic.

She got up and ran into the living room outside our door. I could hear her shouting.

" _You son of a bitch!"_

" _It. Wasn't. Me!"_ I heard him reply. Then Prim woke up next to me, her beautiful blue eyes squinting, adjusting to daylight. When she heard my mother scream she shuddered.

"I'm right here, don't be afraid," I whispered to her.

I held her as we listened to the fight going on outside our door.

" _You did this to her!"_

" _It was that Gale boy, she's been seeing him this whole time!"_

" _You said that you loved me, and that you loved my daughters!"_

" _I do!"_

" _You bastard!"_

The fighting went on and on. But it didn't matter how much my mother reacted now. It was too late.

Prim started to whimper when my mother screamed again. I held her and kissed her head.

"Down in the valley, the valley so low…" I sang. I sang because if I didn't sing at this very moment, I would break and I couldn't. Prim is my little duck. When they got louder, I sang louder.

Then when I sang all the words to that song I sang it all over again. And then when I ran out of words to sing I told her how much I loved her. She told me that she was scared. I told her I was too.

Then I had a baby. It was a girl, she was beautiful and perfect. And they stole her from me. My own mother and Huck. The two people who say they love me. They're sick. They're vermin of the earth. They're sick in the head. I looked for her everywhere but I couldn't find her. I've not given up, I will never give up, but like I said, nothing has ever been in my favor. Something else that was horrible was still coming. As if I didn't have enough to worry about, Prim, who was all I had left, was turning twelve that year.

And then I had a new nightmare to face.

The 74th annual Hunger Games were approaching.

* * *

 **I apologize, that was kind of a mouthful but I wanted to give the backstory in one full chapter. I'm also sorry if it bothered you, I included the warning at the beginning for that very reason! If it didn't bother you and you liked it, please tell me so in a review! It would make me extremely happy! Thank you very much!**


	4. Chapter 4

**This story is progressing VERY slowly but don't worry it will not be abandoned! I want to apologize for the fact that there is no Peeta in this chapter. Sad face. But fear not he will be in the next one and the rest to come. TRIGGER WARNING. There is another brutal rape scene in this. Please do not continue if you are sensitive to the subject. I proofread this chapter but I'm not perfect so I apologize for any typos! As always thank you for checking out my story. Happy face. Heart. Peace. Love.**

* * *

 _Standing on ashes from the fires you've made,_

 _burning your bridges just to save your face._

 _Wounds of regret._

 _If I say I wouldn't be hostile,_

 _could you say you would do the same?_

 _If we're all made just a little bit broken,_

 _Tell me who is to blame?_

 _Tell me who is to blame?_

 _-Of Mice & Men_

The late hours of the night approach, I sit up stiffly against the headboard. My legs are bent at the knees. Prim sleeps restlessly beside me. She tosses and turns, whimpering every so often and I rub her forehead. It is the eve of the Reaping and as much as I have practiced to stay calm tonight, it literally feels like my stomach is about to fall out.

Both of us will be in the drawing tomorrow. Her name will be in there only once, but that is all it takes. It only takes one time, for them to call you up onto a stage, be sent on a train, and be forced to die for entertainment. ENTERTAINMENT. And then be remembered after death like you were blessed to receive such an honor.

"Katniss," I hear, my thoughts interrupted by the sound of the most infuriating voice I can think of at this possible moment.

My head turns slowly and Huck is at the door. All of the lights are off in the house. Everyone is asleep except for us.

"Come on," he ushers as usual. At this moment, I'm busy. I'm busy worrying about my little sister getting reaped tomorrow. I'm busy worrying about what will happen to my little sister if I get reaped tomorrow. By the look on his face, he's not tired in the least bit. I can already tell that this will be a long, sleepless night if I get out of bed right now.

I don't protest, I just quietly slide out of bed. Unfortunately, Prim rolls over and looks around confused.

"Close your eyes," I say to her quickly, touching her cheek with a gentle brush. Huck pushes me forward and closes the door.

We head to the table in the kitchen. I hop on and take my clothes off. Even after all this time, it doesn't get easier. No less painful. Or disgusting. No less violating.

Before I can brace myself Huck's claws pin me down instantly, trapping my wrists underneath his metal grip. I hit my head on the table.

"Damn you," I hiss. Death row is coming for me in the morning. And worse, for Prim.

His rubs his hands up and down my hair and down my arms. "Nasty little girl," he licks my cheek. Something about him feels heavier tonight. Or is it lighter? The possibility that this will be the last time catches me. Maybe this is our last night together.

This monster that I've let destroy my life, steal my life, maybe it will be for the last time. But I don't want it to be, because that means that my child will never find me, I'll never find it and it will be lost forever. And Prim will be left here all alone. With him, my eyes squeeze tight at this horrible thought.

He sucks on my ear, then moves down to my neck. My wrists go limp at this point.

"Participate," he orders. I hate it when he says that. Huck would love to make believe that I am enjoying this as much as he is. That I like it rough.

"Damn you," I hiss again. "Damn. You."

He slaps my cheek. Hard.

I take another hit but this time on the table. After several thuds, it becomes clear to me that my head has become a human paddle ball…with my hair as the elastic string.

A dizziness mixed with unpleasant tingling ensues my throbbing head. By the time I can fight back, he has stopped.

"Get up," I hear him while my hand makes its way to my head. Then before I can register he grabs me again. He throws me towards the wall but I catch myself from falling down.

I turn around to face him, he's cornered me and though I'm used to it, I'm still afraid. Every single time.

"We're going to have to try a little bit harder now aren't we?"

I cringe at what he's asking me to do. Now if I ever get out of this, no one will believe me, for sure.

"Jump," he commands. And I jump. He pins me against the wall before gravity pulls me back down.

I hold onto his back. Tears come quickly. I can't hold in the noises that squeak from me.

"This…is…the…best…" he huffs. I don't agree. I hate the way I have to wrap my legs around his waist to keep from falling. I hate that I'm not allowed to fall. I hate everything about this and him. I just hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

My head hurts so bad that my eyes close. At least I can do that much. There's something about closing your eyes and imagining you were somewhere else. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Right now I choose to imagine that I'm little again.

I take myself into the woods. Where I go, I do not know. All I know is that I have to get away. It feels like something is chasing me. I stumble and fall. In reality I've slipped off of Huck. He slams my head against the wall.

"Pay attention!" he barks. I wrap my legs around him tighter.

The woods slowly make their way back into my imagination. They're dark at first, but then I begin to see sunlight.

The figure of a man can be seen in the distance. I hesitate. Who is this man? What does he want? Does he want to hurt me too?

I walk toward the foggy figure slowly.

It only takes a few more steps before I can tell by the way that he's standing, it's him.

My father.

My father is waiting for me there. The feet beneath me pick up speed. I cannot run quicker. I run to him. With each step his face becomes clearer and clearer. When I'm within arm's reach he lunges towards me, swooping me up and holding me against his chest. He tells me that he loves me. My father. His voice.

"I thought I lost you," I say. My voice is so young it hurts to hear. Has it really been that long?

He holds onto me, and I hold onto him. I don't want to let go. I almost fight it when he sets me back down on the ground. He crouches down a bit to match my height. Those eyes that I thought I would never see again. I forgot how bright they were.

"Daddy?" I sniffle. He holds my cheek with his hand, he still smells the same.

"You never lost me," he whispers. A song that I need to hear so bad. I'm not alone. He's with me.

"I'm right here, I've always been right here," and he taps where my heart lies. It's hard to look at him, if he's been watching over me, then he knows what all I've done.

"Don't look at me," I say turning towards the dark, hiding my face from him.

"Shh…" he hushes me. Like he used to do when I was little.

"Everything's fallen apart. I don't know what to do anymore it just keeps getting worse…" I break down in front of him. Suddenly I'm much taller. My voice is more mature. I have a braid hanging down in front of me. One, not two.

My head hangs down. I can't look him in the face. I'm not his little girl anymore. I'm a woman. A dirty one at that. It is hell to imagine how disappointed he must be in me. Shame must feel so much worse after you're dead.

But then I feel him take my head in his hands. He holds it up higher.

"I am so incredibly proud of you," he says. My eyes open wider.

"You're proud?" I ask him, confused.

My father's arms wrap around me again. It's as if he knows how much I've missed them. Those arms, that used to protect me. They taught me how to hunt, and forage. Those arms taught me survival.

I hold still in this embrace, feeling the warmth of the sun on me. Even in a cold forest, the sun still reaches me through the cracks of the trees. Even in death, I can still feel my father's love.

"I couldn't be more proud of you."

"Daddy," I say. He presses his lips to the top of my head. I'm so delirious, I know that it's a dream, but it feels so real. My heart is wishing on every last breath that this dream doesn't end.

"I'm just so tired…"

"You're going to get through all of this. You're a survivor. And I will never be able to say how much I love you," he tells me.

My eyes open to the darkness of the kitchen. Huck heaves for me to get back onto the table. I obey. My father's face still vibrant in my mind.

I lay back onto the hard table. Huck is out of breath before he can even make it back. Like a trained animal, I open my legs. Instead of climbing on, he pulls a chair up and sits down in front of me.

"You know, I really hope you don't get reaped tomorrow."

I feel him bury his face in me, licking the wet from my crevices.

I hear a slurp and then I see him looking up from between my legs, smiling.

Very gently, with his eyes still on me, he feels my clit. Then I feel him stick a finger in. Then another, then another.

"One more time," he says removing his hand, standing up, and shoving himself back into me.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead as he continues to pump my cunt with his concrete member. There's nothing to distract me from this until I see a shadow move across the ceiling. Huck attacks me again with his face. He can barely breathe.

My face peers into the obscurity behind, and though my eyes have adjusted, it's still hard to make out who has walked up behind us. Behind him.

When I squint I can make out the worn face of the woman who used to be my mother. She has a lamp in her hand, and it's rising up, right behind him. Her husband.

Before I can even react the lamp comes crashing down against the back of his head, knocking him off of me, down to the ground. I freeze in shock, my mother stands over me with the lamp still in hand, shaking in horror.

Naked, I rise up and look warily at the very quiet, very still body of my stepfather.

He's face up. Very quiet. Very still.

He doesn't seem to be breathing. I'm so shocked for the next moments ahead. There's a frozenness to the air, like time has stopped.

Panic begins to take over, my hands cover my mouth as my mother drops the lamp and backs away from the body. Stumbling backwards, her own panic becoming apparent.

A light turns on behind us and a very sleepy Prim appears just a few feet behind our mother.

"Get out, Prim!" I scream. A grain of power returns to me. I hop off the table like nothing ever happened and kick Huck's body. He doesn't move. He doesn't make a sound.

I kick him again, this time harder.

I barely hear my mother trembling on her knees.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she mutters, or something to that effect. There's a dissonance between what she's experiencing and what I'm feeling.

What I'm feeling is a little more personal than what she is feeling.

Anger and disgust explode inside.

With every second that passes, another awful memory of him reflects in my mind.

His hands are limp when I bend down and grab them and feel for a sign of life. Those same hands that ripped my baby from me. The same face that terrorized my home for so long. It's too still to be alive.

Lifeless little bastard lying dead on the kitchen floor. Where he killed me and stole my soul. I fall to the ground and grab his shoulders.

I slap him on the cheek and I only get a reflex. I slap him again. Then I punch him. My fist against his face is only something I've dreamed about. I can't stop, I've only just begun.

So I punch him again, then again.

"You like that? Do you like that? You like that you disgusting piece of shit? You piece of shit, answer me!"

But he still doesn't move.

I've wanted to do this for so long, to have him looking up at me. To be able to beat him until he begged for mercy. For some reason, this doesn't satisfy me. He's not begging for mercy.

I feel my mother pull me away, she throws a blanket over my shoulder and tells me to go back to bed. I can't feel anything at this point.

For a moment I question what just happened. Was that real? Or was that like my dream? Not real. I back away from the body…back to bed…okay.

She was standing over the body when I looked over my shoulder, before going back into my room. There, fine.

He was her problem now.

…

She wakes up in a panic, screaming about the nightmare she had. I understand, I had a nightmare too.

"It was me…" she cries. I comfort her. I braid her hair into two little braids when we get out of bed. "Stay here," I say to her.

I walk out of the bedroom and see the kitchen floor, empty. I don't see anything out of the ordinary in our small house. One less person, but everything seems to appear normal.

It is the day of the reaping.

We clean ourselves off in the wash tub and my mother has laid out a blue dress for me to wear. We haven't seen her this morning. I don't mention to Prim about the body, even when she asks where they both are.

Before we leave the house Prim dives into my arms. She shakes nervously and begins to dry heave.

"Don't," I say to her. I bend down and dig out of my pocket what I've been saving for the last week. My eyes meet at her level and I tuck a pin into her clothing. Madge's Mockingjay.

"Don't cry, Little Duck. It's not gonna be you."

…

 **Thank you for reading and please review, review, review! Seriously, it means everything in the world to me. When I get a review it gives me the same feeling as getting to ride a roller coaster 3 times in a row because there's no one else in line. Or like getting to eat a piece of cheesecake after not having sugar for 4 months. Or meeting Queen J-Law. Or getting to adopt a cat. Or getting a new sparkly gel pen. So please do me a favor and give me that feeling by reviewing. Please. Thanks. Wink.**


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